


Lithuanian Occupation During World War II

by derogatory



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, Sexual Violence, War Crimes, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 21:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derogatory/pseuds/derogatory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Declaring neutrality after Poland's invasion, Lithuania was occupied by both the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany between 1940 to 1944.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lithuanian Occupation During World War II

It wasn’t out of the blue that Poland would attack German borders. Because it wasn’t like the little guy had a history of brilliant strategies, and not killing any of the guards could be attributed to being a lousy shot. This was how Germany had been explaining it for several months now, if anyone even asked. Poland was a good scapegoat. He whined about all the unimportant things so much that nobody would listen when he really started complaining. That was how they explained it. It was Polish aggression against Germany- unwarranted and relentless. The Fuhrer slid easily through this contrived speech to his people, his soldiers, his nation.

"We have no choice but to speak to Poland in the same language that Poland has spoken to us."

As they left the (newly declared)war meeting, Italy tugged playfully along Germany's sleeves, trying to get the other man to smile. "Wow, Germany!" he beamed. "I didn't know you could speak Polish."  


  


* * *

  


 

They were so close the hum of the Luftwaffe shook the still new foundation of Lithuania’s house. At every shriek of a missile, Latvia sunk farther into his chair, and Estonia spilled ink over the table twice and once on the document Lithuania had brought for them to sign.

He waited for the sounds of explosions to fade before he started speaking again.

"Russia and Germany have done this before.” Lithuania looked between his friends in turn, trying to catch their anxiety and dispel it. In truth he wasn’t half as confident as he tried to present himself, but the situation called for someone to stand firm between the three of them (Just three now- Leit’s chest ached). 

"Just the Baltic States alone couldn't stop them then. Even now it would only be more difficult." When this failed to convince either of them, he sighed, appealing to Latvia with a worried smile. "We've only just become free, remember? If we try to help him, we'll lose everything in a heartbeat." He reached out to stroke Latvia's hair. 

“But Poland’s just got free too,” the tiny blond ventured, flinching when Lithuania’s face hardened.

"I didn’t say I liked it," he countered quickly, sitting up straighter. It was difficult to be the firm hand with these two, whose intentions were only good. But their nearness to the fighting made any offensive action too risky, even if was the morally right course of action.

"So you’re saying we should just be neutral?" Estonia's voice shook, but it was full of protest. "Even though we know what's happening is wrong-"

"We don't have a choice," Lithuania snapped, taking the pen from Estonia's hand. "There are other allies, right? We'll just have to trust the others to help him out."  


  


* * *

  


 

"Oh, I won't be helping," America replied blithely, and England could picture his slump against the rotary box. “I’m very busy. Did I tell you I repealed prohibition?”

“Yes, I remember,” England growled. “Anyway, what did you call me about that for? I didn’t ask for your help, you know--” He fumed at the other man’s chuckling across the line rattled with static. “Stop laughing!”

“But do your bombs even work? Can’t even sink a German boat!” he snickered, making quiet explosion noises between England’s irritated silence. The relationship was still sour between these two, even with a victory in the previous world conflict. This fight though, both America and his former founding father were sure this was just a localized land grab. Just like Czechoslo-whatsit.

“It’s nothing,” England snarled. “We don’t have the time to get that far east anyway.”  


  


* * *

  


 

No one came to aid Poland, who only saw the foreign involvement of Russia, setting upon at the last second to seal his fall. As usual, Russia made many promises he couldn’t keep, and not long after storming through Poland did the bigger man make trouble for Estonia. To be honest, maybe the studious Baltic state had deserved it. Estonia had tried to help the retreating Poland after all, hiding him along the ports. When Lithuania called Estonia to confront him, he was almost certain he’d dialed the wrong number, because this determination wasn’t the Estonia he’d known before the war.

“We agreed to be neutral,” Leit argued, peering through the blinds at the smoke in the distance. Resigned, he added helplessly, “Russia won’t forgive you for this.”

“Poland would do the same for us,” was Estonia’s retort, firm in his resolve.

“No, he probably wouldn’t,” Lithuania replied, exasperated by the conflict already.  


  


* * *

  


 

"I do respect your independence, you know," Russia pointed out with a smile, chin resting on the palm of his hand, watching Lithuania. "I think it's wonderful." Lithuania kept his mouth shut, adding sugar to his tea. He steadfastly avoided the urge to do the same for Russia as well. Even after so many years of being free, it was alarming how quickly he felt the habit of bowing down to the other man's influence.

"It's just you have all that yard space!" Russia's voice was almost a childish whine. "You're hardly using it. Isn't that right?" His other hand tapped along the edge of the table, startling Leit. "I hope I'm not asking too much. Estonia and Latvia already agreed to let me visit once and a while." He watched Lithuania like a hawk ready to set upon the rabbit that had escaped him the previous winter. When the rabbit said nothing, the predator spoke again, with a great deal less sweetness in his voice.

"Why don't I give you something of Poland's?" 

Lithuania stared back at the bold offer, struck dumb, as though the man had spoken a foreign language. It nearly was, for as long as Lithuania had known Russia he didn't know him to give gifts. At least, not the sort of gifts anyone with a weak stomach would want to receive.

"Of.. Poland's?" he repeated hesitantly when the hand snaked out. Leit went wide eyed, sure Russia was reaching for his throat, ready to throttle him into submission. But the grip stopped at just his collar, fussing with the lapel, like a dutiful mother examining her children's clothing.

"I could give you back your heart," Russia purred, fingers sliding over the other man's tie. "It would be easy to tear it out of his chest." Lithuania, sensing the danger of their proximity, began to pull back.

"Russia-"

"Or maybe there’s something else of his you've always wanted?" The knowing look in his eyes made Leit’s struggling stop, his stomach sink. "He's teased you mercilessly about that, hasn't he? Since you were children, before you even knew what those feelings meant." Lithuania could feel his face go warm, body trying to keen away from Russia's accusations. "But you never ask for anything for yourself. Such a good child." Russia's smile was low and wide and sliced through Lithuania's resolve. "Why don't I offer you the opportunity to take what he wouldn't give you all those nights."

Russia settled suddenly back into his seat, jerking Lithuania forward, choking, for only a moment before he released him. "Ah, or perhaps I could give you a finger!"

"I don't want that," Lithuania coughed, struggling to regain his composure. "I don't want any of it." Russia didn’t seem to believe it, and the talks continued into the night. Leit wasn’t sure he heard any of Russian‘s sly pleas, sensing the oncoming struggle on the horizon no matter what he decided. Being idealistic in the past hadn’t done them any good before. Poland was gone, surrendered and shuffled between Germany and Russia. The last time this had happened, it was more than a hundred years before either of them saw their own independence. Poland has given up, he told himself sternly. It’s not worth risking your freedom. Even more- he swallowed back with his feelings- it would be dangerous to leave something that precious with Poland, especially now that Germany and Russia would do away with him. With a shaking, dull gnaw in his hollow chest, Lithuania felt his options slim into nothing.

“All right,” he mumbled in resignation, hands gathered up to painful fists in his lap. 

“All right,” Russia sighed happily.

Poland was awake through the extraction, sputtering blood and fighting (Poland is always fighting). Leit stayed out of his line of vision, having begged to avoid witnessing the operation entirely. But Russia insisted on his presence, so Lithuania stuck to a corner of the makeshift surgical tent, shaking almost as bad as the makeshift patient.

Germany handed over the still warm prize, which shuddered like a wounded animal in Lithuania’s grip. This wasn’t the heart I left there, he whimpered. Everything has changed too badly for all of us, so I can’t accept this. I want him to keep this close to his own heart forever. But it was too frightening with both the powers leering over him, so Lithuania choked out a thank you. Exhausted from screaming, Poland passed out during the exchange. Lithuania kept his distance from his old friend, still petrified of being spotted, but Russia saw him looking at that prone body.

"The offer still stands," he breathed, hands heavy on Lithuania's shoulders, on his conscience, his urges.  


  


* * *

  


 

Early in the spring, Leit started receiving letters from other nations, curiously inquiring on recent rumors. They said Russia had been complaining that Lithuania had become a bully, insatiable in his persistence to dismantle the stability of his neighbors. 

"Why would I do that?" Lithuania looked incredulously from the papers to the other Baltic states, as though this was the very first instance Russia had fabricated. "Nobody would believe this." When he closed his eyes, he still saw Poland stretched out, his chest an open, heaving pool of blood, and wasn’t so sure Russia was lying about what he had become.

When June came around, Russia broke through the windows of each of their houses and promises in turn, rounding the three up for a family reunion. He loomed over them gratefully, ignoring Latvia’s cries as he fixed Estonia’s hair.

“All together again,” he beamed. “What a shame Poland couldn’t make it.” He looked to Lithuania for a reaction, but Leit was too busy watching their homes fade into the distance, silhouetted orange by the ever-present raze of Poland’s house.  


  


* * *

  


 

So much about Russia’s house was the same, even after Leit’s independence. Lithuania still woke up half suffocated by Russia’s weight, sliding free to start the morning chores. Laundry took half of the day (so many conscripted soldiers need their uniforms), and by the time it was all ready to be dried he had to fix lunch. After eating together, silent except for Russia’s enthusiastic chatter, he hung the jackets to dry. It was during these very few moments of summer that Leit had returned to Russia’s house and, if pressured, he had to admit this was the best time to return to this place. 

After laundry came various cleaning and scrubbing duties before it was already dinner time. He didn’t have many responsibilities after the meal, only to be available if Russia needed him. Most nights, Russia curled up with his head in Lithuania’s lap, talking on about the stars. Lithuania squinted in the distance trying to remember the roads that would bring him home.

Spending the night with Russia was always the hardest. Maybe the rest of his life in captivity he could readjust to, but his independence had instilled Leit with a nagging sense of pride. Russia sneered in the dark, eager to work that part free from Lithuanian identity. He supposed he could make it easier on himself if he cried out like Estonia and Latvia did, but the strength had faded away. Fighting so hard had wiped Poland from the map, hadn’t it? If he was even still around, Leit’s heart clenched. He wasn’t ready to face him.

So after that, Lithuania had been sure he would feel some relief to see Russia suffer. But there was nothing, watching Russia pour over Germany’s declaration. He felt nothing at the sight of Russia’s confusion and desperation, as though no one could break promises but him. He knew what Russia was capable of when he was disappointed, but Lithuania couldn’t garner up the strength to react. He wondered how fast Germany could arrive.

Russia had his back to him, filtering through maps and charts of troop movements. His shoulders had gone rigid, a fine line of determination with the powerful snap of alcohol through his veins. Lithuania watched his keeper in a daze, trying to remember when he had seen Russia so wound up. Bloody Sunday? There had been so many miserable moments where Russia had lost control. There wasn’t so much that could take Lithuania by surprise any longer. 

It was strange, though, because as Leit said that he was surprised by the knife in his own hand. He had been cutting vegetables for stew. He stared a the blade like a foreign attachment to his arm, trying to discern why he was still holding onto a thing. Russia’s back shook with furious tremors, catching Lithuania’s unsteady eye.

It had been so nice to be independent, he remembered suddenly. It hadn’t been as busy as this life, and things were harder on your own, but anything was better than this, wasn’t it? Lithuania couldn’t remember how long he’d been in Russia’s house. Maybe I never left, he thought wistfully. Maybe it had been a bad dream- Being free for twenty years only to have Russia come back and take it away again.

His hand shook, fingers wrapped so tightly around the handle they ached. Slowly, his arm felt suddenly very warm, like he’d stuck it in a pool of warm water. A high copper smell rose in the air and at a funeral’s pace, Russia’s gasp reached his ears.

Everything rushed back- the war, his independence, the war again, the last joke Poland made before he hung up the phone that September. Russia wrenched the knife from his skin, turning slowly to face a suddenly awake Leit. Russia looked curiously from the knife in his hands to the wound in his shoulder, as though he’d never seen a cut before. He moved faster than Lithuania could see, hauling the smaller man close by a hand wrapped around his bicep.

"I'm hurt," Russia said sorrowfully, twisting the arm up Lithuania's back, pinning him to the wall. It was all the more frightening to hear Russia admit being wounded, even more than to see the clash of red on his coat. "Are you saying you'd rather be with Germany than me?" Leit’s mind swum trying to decipher why he had lashed out at that moment. Sure, Russia was distracted, but if he had wanted to kill the man he easily could have done it in Russia’s sleep. He could have killed him right then, perhaps, with better aim. He could hear himself start whimpering in pain.

"No," Lithuania cried, his bones shrieking in protest as Russia twisted. "No- I want to be fr-" There was a sudden pop, so loud in his ears that Lithuania thought a gun had gone off. But his arm in Russia's hand went numb and limp, slipping free of the shoulder's hold. Russia flipped him around so the men could face each other while Leit fumbled for his dislocated arm in shock. Russia used the knife to carve off the collar of his shirt, tearing off the rest of his garments, cutting skin when Lithuania struggled. The knife slid between his ribs as easily as a handshake, silencing Leit fast. All the air streamed from his lungs, so when Russia turned him around again, he didn’t have the breath to cry out.  


  


* * *

  


 

What felt like years later, Leit woke up lying on his stomach, the dull smell of exhaust through the air.

"Don't move," a gruff, familiar voice muttered above him. Lithuania didn't need to crane his neck to recognize the man, and instead anxiously settled into the military issued pillow. "You've been hurt badly." As Leit answered Germany’s questions ("Can you feel your feet? Do you know what day it is?") their voices were muffled against the stiff atmosphere; the roar of the other vans and the sounds of air sirens in the distance.

"About Russia- What is the last thing you remember?"

Confused, Lithuania searched his memory for something other than blood and pain and cold metal ripping deep the skin of his back. He must’ve woken up Latvia, screaming so loud.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I wanted to die." Germany was quiet for a long time, shifting to sit up a little straighter in the van.

"I meant which way did he run,” he murmured at last, strangely soft.  


  


* * *

  


 

Germany brought Lithuania home to rest. The windows were left open for the summer air, and Leit could dream about playing at the beach with the other Baltic nations. He remembered teaching Latvia to swim, and getting salt water in his eyes when he splashed too eagerly. Estonia made grand sandcastles and Poland buried and reburied Leit’s feet for hours, his touch as sharp as knives. It seemed like a million years ago.

When Lithuania woke up, it had become fall. Germany left a plate of shakily skinned apples on his bedside table, a “Get Well Soon” card from Italy.

When he had the strength to walk around, he realized there weren't many soldiers around the property. Germany came and went occasionally, often for meals- but he always returned to his own home at night. It was weighing heavily on Lithuania’s mind, keeping him up through the night as he worried. Germany didn’t even ask for German food when he came to visit!! Something was really up.

"I have to go to your house someday, don't I?" Lithuania managed to ask over lunch. He sat on a tiny stool they once had used to help Latvia reach the tall shelves. His back was still too cut up to sit against a chair. When Germany went on with his pancakes, Leit tentatively continued, "That's where everyone's gone. Austria, Hungry and France. Right?" It wasn't that he wanted to leave, but the waiting had become to heavy in his heart. He didn't say it on purpose, but Poland was there too in that house, wasn't he? Somehow, all that rest and dreaming reminded him of how badly he needed to see that old friend again.

“You don’t want to stay here?” Germany asked shortly, setting his silverware down and giving the Baltic state a serious look.

“I want to take care of myself,” Lithuania insisted without hesitation. Germany watched him before going back to his meal. 

Over the next few weeks, Germany appeared in the doorway, tall and awkward in a traveling coat, ready for a fresh meal. It was nice taking care of someone who didn’t ask for much in return- Lithuania wasn’t sure he had ever experienced a thing. Poland never seemed as grateful as Germany, and Russia always tore away more pieces for himself, hoarding it among his other stolen possessions. But Germany was slow and quiet, and let Lithuania decide every meal. 

One day he came to visit while Lithuania was in the yard, scowling over the damage Russia had done years ago. He smiled shortly to Germany over his shoulder before slipping into the greenhouse, fetching seeds and rakes. The new grass would have to grow up quickly before the winter, so he knew he didn’t have the luxury of waiting until his body had fully recovered. Halfway through the replanting, Germany cautiously joined in.

“You don’t have to do that,” Lithuania stared, straightening up from the dirt. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re still injured,” Germany replied in a tight voice, shouldering Lithuania aside. “If you’re my responsibly, it’s important that you get strong again.” Still surprised, Lithuania tried to inch his way back into the planting row and Germany continually elbowed him out. Leit started laughing, suddenly thrilled by such a funny brand of help, and went inside to make them lemonade. Germany finished the planting much faster than Leit knew he ever could, and they sat on the front steps, shooing birds away from their handiwork.

“Thank you,” he said honestly, wiping his hands on the apron. Germany said nothing, stiffly observing the land. Lithuania had the idea that Germany had his own plans for Leit’s property, but couldn’t dismiss the happy warmth just from sitting next to him.

When winter came around, Germany had packed up Lithuania’s belongings and waited in the van until Leit got the hint. Still, driving away, Lithuania felt a funny sense of gratitude, having been nursed in own home.  


  


* * *

  


 

Hungary put over fresh bandages, scolding Germany openly for letting Lithuania get into such a state. Anxious in this huge new house, Leit worriedly asked after his friends. He never had the courage to inquire after them with Germany, partially sure there was only bad news.

“Estonia is with Finland, fighting Russia,” Hungary whispered, peering anxiously into Leit’s expression. He couldn’t manage much of a smile, especially after hearing how Latvia was still trapped. Those two Baltic states’ statuses covered, his new caretakers paused too long on the next topic.

"Poland is at Russia's tonight," Austria explained in carefully guarded terms. It seemed odd to Leit, who had not seen the boy once when he had been living in that household.

"Oh,” he murmured, sliding into a clean shirt. “Will he be back tomorrow?" Hungary seemed to have gone deaf to the questions, retying her hair into a bow. Austria yawned, seated far from the newcomer.

"Who knows?" he replied absently, attention focused on the sheets of music. "Ugh, Beethoven again? Honestly."

Latvia arrived several days later and, delirious with even the smallest reunion, Leit let the boy room with him. The bed Germany gave Lithuania seemed bigger than most, so there was enough room for them to sleep with ample space between them. But Latvia slept pressed as close to Lithuania as he could, sometimes shaking so hard it kept Leit up half the night.

It was during these moments, hunched over the dreaming boy, stroking his hair, that there was a knock on the door.

"Poland's here," Hungary smiled tightly, like there was some secret message Lithuania was supposed to read through the dark. He sat up fast, tangled in his blankets as he struggled to fully awaken. Latvia stirred awake, but it was as though he couldn’t hear the boy whimper out for him. Leit heard his heart (someone’s heart) pounding in his ears as he tore through the hallways, through every inch of the mansion.

Lithuania wandered through the house all night. He fell asleep in the foyer, sure he would catch the boy if he tried to leave again. He thought he would start with an apology, and then offer to do his chores for the rest of their occupation. Poland had to do chores, surely, even if he was never around the household. He must be very busy, Leit told himself, steadfast in that delusion as he drifted through dreams. Poland was working in the fields, that’s all it was. It wouldn’t be too cruel, but it was just enough work for Poland to feel put-upon. Everyone knew about what you did to him, he reasoned. That’s why they wouldn’t tell him where Poland had been hiding. But, Lithuania thought blissfully. But he was sorry. Everything would be all right if they could see each other again and apologize.

Maybe, Lithuania thought, the marble cool under his fingertips. Maybe I’ll let him have my heart back.

In the morning, the smell of sausages stirred him from sleep. Over their meal, he asked Germany where Poland was. His demands went unanswered, and the man addressed a general on something called Fall Gelb. France excused him from the table.  


  


* * *

  


 

Germany pulled Lithuania from the midst of Austria’s impromptu piano concerts, shutting up the door to the study behind them. As they strode through the halls, Germany unceremoniously informed him that Poland was in the house for the night. Lithuania staggered but kept on walking, fearful Germany would turn a corner before him and this chance would evaporate again. They went deeper into the lower levels than Lithuania had explored previously, while Germany’s voice shot across the narrow halls. 

"You know the kind of person he is," Germany said suddenly, looking over his shoulder to the Baltic state that trailed at his heels. Lithuania eased to a stop, looking after the man carefully, nodding. He knew Poland better than anyone else in Europe. "Then you understand how difficult he has always been."

"What are you trying to say?" 

Germany seemed to be struggling for some kind of explanation for whatever was behind that door, and the faltering expression that passed over his face (if only briefly) made Lithuania shudder. When he opened the door, Poland peered back to them with minimal interest. He was dressed in the same uniform as Germany, with a funny band around his arm that Lithuania was sure he’d seen somewhere else. His hair was pulled back and his face was drawn, like the pony tail was too tight, like he hadn’t slept in months. There were weird dots covering his arms like sleeves that, as Leit staggered forward, he came to realize were burns and bruises. When Poland turned fully to face him, he realized the left side of his face had purpled over with the same bruises. What he thought was a smear of dirt on the right side was a cut, as though someone had carved into his cheek. Russia- maybe with that same knife- Leit thought despairingly.

A split lip snaked into a smile and suddenly, Poland held onto him around the waist, face buried into Lithuania's chest. Unconsciously, his hands went over Poland's hair and he wondered if this was how a mother holds a frightened child.

"Pola-" when the other boy looked up at Leit's shocked expression, he winked. The shaking wasn't from fear, Leit realized, but that Poland's tiny shoulders were trembling with silent laughter. Like this was all some big joke from their childhood. It felt like hours before Lithuania stopped crying, long enough that Germany excused himself.

Poland sat in his lap like a baby, and Lithuania would've complained but he seemed so much lighter. He kept his eyes on his friend, trying to discern if there was any hint that Poland somehow saw or remembered what happened over that surgical table. Surely he knows, Leit’s mind whittled at his confidence, his happiness. He remembers what you did to him. Still, Poland seemed very much the same; he was uninterested in Latvia and Estonia (“Fighting with Finland? Hmm!”), and he roared with laughter when he felt Leit's still sore shoulder click. Lithuania flinched and squirmed under his grip- he could feel the bandages along his back going red. ("Don't squeeze so hard, okay?" he smiled tentatively. Poland snickered and held on all the tighter.)

"So when are you gonna escape?" Poland asked suddenly, arms wound around Leit’s neck like a lover. The question sobered Lithuania from their honeymoon reunion.

“I- can’t,” he replied, surprised at how alien the concept of escape was. When Poland slipped into his traditional pout, Leit hurriedly backtracked. “It’s too dangerous. When Russia left, I got a little- I’m still-”

“-Scared?” Poland finished with a snort, hopping off Lithuania’s lap. “Tch! I’m so not surprised. You always get like this when stuff is hard.” He made a ‘tsk’-ing noise with his tongue, military boots clapping across his room (it was a cell, Lithuania realized with sudden clarity). Poland was a prisoner, and hurt (whether he wanted to show it or not), but Lithuania couldn’t throw aside the risks just for that. 

"Don't act as though you're the only one suffering," he murmured.

"I know," Poland smirked, a vicious look of victory in their squalor. "I'm just the only one fighting." Leit thought of Estonia and Latvia crying from Russia's room in the middle of the night, or of the low throb of pain from his back, or the fire that had destroyed their childhood home all those years ago- and suddenly, furiously, hated everything about Poland.

“If you know everyone is suffering, think about our position,” he pushed, heaving himself onto his feet, stalking after Poland. “I’m sorry this happened to you, but if we run away from Germany- then what? Latvia and I will just end up with Russia again.” Poland glared back at him, a stark reminder than not everyone had escaped Russia’s iron grip. “I’m sorry,” Lithuania pleaded again, to little avail. Such a stubborn child, he heard Russia sneer in his head, inciting his nerves. 

“What- I don’t under why you’re so mad at me. You’re the one who started all of this.” Leit hadn’t meant the final part, really. It was just so easy to place the blame onto Poland over all these years that the comment had slipped out. His friend, of course, hadn’t missed it, and swelled up with anger.

"When," Poland spat, suddenly unrecognizable. "When did I like, start it, Leit? Cause I've been thinking about it since this junk started, and I seriously _still_ can't figure out what I did to deserve this." Lithuania took a step back, trying to clarify himself as the boy railed on in petrified tones, “I really didn’t attack Germany-” (“I know-”) “I didn’t say anything bad to Russia, I promise-” (“No, you didn’t-”) “I didn’t even make fun of France for being a pervert or England for being a jerk! I’ve been like, nicer than I ever was with you, but this stuff keeps happening and I’m tired.” In the ringing silence, Lithuania gathered Poland in his arms again. He really was so much smaller now. 

Somewhere in his shouts, the cut on Poland’s lip had reopened, darkening Leit’s shoulder red. When Poland hurriedly squirmed away, Leit noticed neither of those blackened eyes had been crying.

"Nobody wants to help cause nobody likes me," Poland cut through, strong and strangely proud in the dark. "And you know what? I don't like them either. Not even you.” He grinned at that, wearing a villainous expression with blood spilling down his chin. “I never asked for your stupid heart,” he added, turning up his nose at the comfort, at Leit’s dawning dread. “If you wanted it back so badly I’d have just given it to you. Something gross like that.” Poland cast Lithuania a strange, sickened look that curled his insides. It was awful enough that somehow Russia knew how Lithuania felt for Poland (Russia always knew), but it was worse than Poland had been aware of it too. How long have you known, he wanted to beg. Why didn’t you say anything, Leit wanted to scream. When did you start hating me like this? 

“Of course I like you! You had it for years, remember? You took it from me,” Leit pressed, humiliated. “I wouldn’t have minded, but then Russia had you, so I had to protect-” He fell into silence, more upset with himself at that moment than Poland. He had taken back his heart to protect himself, rather than stand up to protect Poland. “I’m sorry,” he muttered between clenched teeth, weary of a reunion that took such a grim turn.

“Oh,” Poland leaned in close, his hands on his hips. “Oh, do you want to give it back to me?” When he shook his head, Poland stepped in even closer, rich with the smell of blood and stale air. “No? Don’t you like me anymore?” He leered, breath warm on Leit’s neck. “You’re gonna give it to Germany, huh?” With a jolt, Leit saw Russia in the boy beside him.

“Stop it.”

“You love him, don’t you!” Poland crowed, tossing his head back. “Ah, Leit! You’re just like a puppy!” His fists clenched at his side and Poland sneered and teased, smarting from his own wounds and eager to make other people hurt. “Gosh, Leit. If you wanna get double-teamed by Russia and Germany so bad, you should trade places with me! You hate being free, after all-” Poland reeled back, fingers flying to his nose. His expression was all blood, so much so that Leit wasn’t sure what was in front of him, who he’d punched. Lithuania felt his body shivering from the attack, trying to steady his breathing. When was it such a crime to be pragmatic, he wanted to snarl after Poland’s shocked expression. What did somebody like Poland know about sacrifices and freedom? Leit was fighting the only way he knew how.

Recovering from the blow, Poland sprang back at him, cracking his head against the stone floor. Blood bubbled from the reopened wounds on his back and underneath his hair. Over him, Poland only punched once and then went still, hunched over his former friend. When Leit opened his eyes, Poland was scrubbing the blood and tears from his face, shuddering uncontrollably. Lithuania couldn’t remember ever seeing Poland cry. Not during the separation of their Commonwealth, not when they were given their independence, not even when they were babies. He felt hollow watching Poland tremble, trying to remember when he had stopped loving the other boy. Maybe it was a necessity, he wondered, to protect himself when Poland was ripped away.

“I like you,” Poland whimpered, voice distorted by the shattered bones of his face, years of abuse. “Don’t fight me too, Leit.” Germany returned to pry them apart what felt like hours later, and Poland kept crying, asking Lithuania to stay and denouncing him in the same sentence. Leading Lithuania back upstairs with a hand around his shoulder, Germany sighed.

“Don’t go looking for Poland again,” he ordered. “Your help against him isn’t necessary any longer.” Lithuania clawed at his own chest, suddenly sure why the heart had felt wrong when it had been returned to him. Poland had used up all the love that was in it and all that was left was Leit’s hatred. That bastard.

When he slid back into bed, Latvia seemed still in comparison to Lithuania’s shaking. Take me back, Leit cried, imagining Poland, alone and bloody and passed between Russia and Germany. I don’t want this heart anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Germany justified the invasion of Poland by citing Polish aggression on the German border. In truth, German soldiers staged these attacks, leaving Polish prisoners shot dead at the scene. Only a few people in the international community believed the German side of the story.
> 
> \- America is talking about when England bombed the German ship the Admiral Scheer in the opening days of the war . The ship was hit with three bombs that never exploded. Despite several countries allying themselves with Poland, the country received little to no foreign assistance during the September Campaign.
> 
> \- Russia offers to give Lithuania back his heart from Poland, and then later something uh else of Poland's. This is in reference to the city of Vilnius, which is the capital of Lithuania. The city exchanged hands many times, and was under Polish control in the beginning of WWII. As part of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, (the treaty of non-aggression between the Soviet Union and Germany) Lithuania was secretly ceded back control of the city for signing a similar pact with the Soviet Union.
> 
> \- To justify aggression against Lithuania, Russia told everyone Lithuanians were kidnapping Russian soldiers. This was about as widely believed as Polish attacks on German borders.
> 
> \- Lithuania's rebellion against Russia is in reference to the June Revolt in Lithuania, in the interim period between Soviet and Nazi rule. Russia's violent reaction is in reference to the Rainiai Massacre of Lithuanians as Soviet Soldiers retreated.
> 
> \- Lithuanians collaborated extensively with Nazi Germany during their occupation, and Germans allowed Lithuania to remain their sovereignty for longer than most other conquered nations. While the first part isn’t unheard of for Eastern nations during WWII, the second part was pretty new!
> 
> \- During both German and Soviet occupation, Estonians were forcibly conscripted into either army. Many Estonians fled to serve in the Finnish army, such as in the [Finnish Infantry Regiment 200](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finnish_Infantry_Regiment_200). Their motto was "For the freedom of Finland and the honor of Estonia".
> 
> \- Fall Gelb is the Battle of France, which ended with occupied France by the Axis powers. hoooly shit do i want to read about France and Germany here
> 
> \- Lithuania and Poland’s fight is based around the Battle of Murowana Oszmianka, where Lithuania forces of Nazi Germany fought Polish resistance. After winning, Polish troops released all Lithuanian prisoners of war and sent a letter asking them to stop assisting German efforts, later receiving not reply. Germany later disbanded their Lithuania forces as a result of this defeat.
> 
> \- I figure this one will have way more historical inaccuracies, so feel free to correct me!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> \- This fic isn't quite so good, but I really just wanted to try a Leit voice fjhd thanks for reading


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